


Swirling Thoughts

by MajestyTime



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Abuse, Anxiety, Bad Poetry, Dark, Depressing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poetry, Random & Short, Short, Slapping, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2020-12-21 03:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21067979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajestyTime/pseuds/MajestyTime
Summary: A collection of miscellaneous Banana Fish drabbles/poems.





	1. he can feel it

**Author's Note:**

> I just made this as a vent fic sort of thing. Something to write on the side when I'm at loss for my other works.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anxiety is an untameable beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> created 09.06.19

he can still feel their hands roaming all over him. he can still feel the way his back muscles would tighten, letting adrenaline shoot throughout his body. he can still feel the constant dread that lurked within him. he was alive, but it was in the worst way possible. he was alive in the way a wounded animal is alive: constantly struggling for survival, running on nothing but instinct and terror, losing against the tidal waves of oblivion that continue to crash against it. Alive, but barely.

ash was alive. he was alive with anxiety constantly thrumming within him like a neverending waterfall. sometimes it wasn't so bad, but it was always coursing through him. through his veins, through the empty chasm he calls his heart, over the rotting mess he calls his brain, right into his nonexistent soul.


	2. splatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> created 11.03.19

splatter

the stain of red that covers the pavement

is darker than the grief you feel

after the life

leaves their eyes


	3. ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> created 11.29.19

child protective services came into his home today.

it was terrifying.

ash only had fourteen summers, and he'd already been through hell and back.

golzine always had his way with him. ash never told anyone, though. there would be no point. golzine threatened to skin him alive if he ever told, so ash always kept quiet.

they asked him a million questions when they came. there was a horrible, gigantic, tight pit in his stomach as he lied with ease. his heart pounded in his chest as he answered all of their questions. he begged every being out there that they wouldn't find out.

they checked for bruises on his arms and legs.

nothing.

his skin was white and smooth like a porcelain doll.

(of course golzine would never do anything to ruin the beautiful exterior of his toy.)

_how are your grades?_

_do you have any friends?_

_do you drink or do drugs?_

_do you have friends at school?_

_does he hurt you?_

good; yes; no; no; no.

ash dreamed of freedom, but he'd never spill his dark secrets because now...

his wings weren't fully formed yet. he was still a baby angel, with small, weak, white wings. he couldn't fly; not yet. it wasn't his time.

ash swore he would murder whoever made the report. do they have any idea what golzine will do to him once this all blows over?

of course they don't, because whoever reported him to child protective services didn't bother to talk to him and ask what was happening at home.

it didn't matter that ash was suffering. this stupid fucking mess was much more terrifying and stressful than his normal, daily life. ash didn't want to end up in some stupid foster home. he loved the neighborhood he lived in, and he wouldn't be able to stay if some random family swept him away. his friends shorter, sing, and cain all lived right down the block, and a new boy had moved in next door. ash really liked the new boy; his name was eiji okumura, and he was cute. if eiji ever found out, his chances would be ruined before he even tries to get to eiji.

they wouldn't tell him who filed the report, and ash could see why. if ash knew who filed it, he'd hunt them down and beat the shit out of whoever it was. ash bet it was his stupid fucking teacher, mr.lobo. the guy was so fucking intrusive and annoying.

_how are you, ash?_

_why don't you speak with the other kids in your class, ash?_

_do you have any friends, ash?_

_why do you spend lunch all alone?_

_you can call me max, if you'd like._

what kind of fucking teacher says that kind of sappy bullshit anyways?! so fucking stupid.

after they leave, golzine slaps ash. hard enough to get the point across, but light enough to not leave any marks. it was a cruel balance. golzine slapped him again and again. on his face, on his arms, on his back. then golzine shoved ash onto the bed and spread ash's legs, and ash knew he wouldn't be allowed to sleep that night.

golzine's smell and vile words and thrusts and semen made ash wish he was a ghost. if ash was a ghost, he could just float away and travel the world. ash would read all the books in the world and he'd leave small gifts for all his friends. and he'd leave the cute okumura boy a small note along with some natto. ash rewrites the imaginary note in his head again and again and again until finally it's perfect.

_there's a little ghost who likes you. the ghost hates natto, but he knows you like it, so he brought you some. leave him a note if you like it._

the thought of writing notes back and forth with eiji makes a warm, fuzzy feeling form in ash's chest. ash thinks about being a ghost and making eiji's day as golzine cums inside him. instead of thinking about the feeling of the sticky white liquid inside of him or the feel of an old man's sweat permanently embedded into his body, ash thinks about flying far, far away from new york city, so he can be happy. being human means he can't fly. being human brings him great pain.

someday, ash will die, and he won't have to be human any longer.

the thought gives him comfort during the late hours of the night.


	4. empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> created 12.2.19

empty.

he feels empty.

there's nothing left.

he's just a bag of flesh

he wants to melt into the ground

become nothing

one with everything

the abyss calls out to him

he continues to ignore it.

but secretly,

inside,

he know the abyss has already claimed his heart and his lungs

he can't speak

can't think

can't breathe

his heart

it's still beating?

strange.

he could've sworn it died years ago.

he's knows it's beating but

he can't feel it.

his chest is empty

no heart

no lungs

no ribs

no veins

no blood

just a cave

with a few flowers

creeping up the walls

a few fireflies float around

all ash wants is to be with his friends

he wants to hear shorter's stupid jokes again

he wants to talk to cain about serious stuff that the others wouldn't get

he wants to tease sing

he wants to play with skipper

he wants to gaze into eiji's soft eyes

smooth and warm like hot chocolate

he dared to take a sip once and

everything

fell

apart

ash is empty.

he should just walk away

walk hundreds and thousands of miles away from new york city

into the grassy fields

where he can crawl into a ditch

and finally stop being a burden to everyone around him

...

when will it end?

when will the pain stop?

when will everything go back to normal?

will it ever go back to normal?

he stares up into the dark blue starry sky

neon spacedust scattered like spilled milk on a dark blue tablecloth

stars dotting the sky like fresh snow

ash stares up into the dark blue starry sky

and the answer creeps its way into his chest and wraps itself around him like a blanket around the abyss


	5. no escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> created 12.3.19

it feels as though there is no escape

they are always lurking

the demons

the darkness

the fake light

begging for him to open up

but he won't

he doesn't want to

opening up means being vulnerable

and in ash's world

vulnerability led to more pain and maybe even

death

no escape

when will they leave?

when will eiji stop trying to save him?

doesn't eiji know that he can never be saved?

a small voice inside whispers

_maybe things will get better_

but the thought is terrifying

everything good in ash's life always gets ruined

he can never have happiness, no matter how much he desperately craves it

he's terrified of change

who knows what will happen once the light leaves, thinking it has helped him make his own light?

he will never shine

he's backed into a wall; cornered

a dying, wounded lynx

broken beyond repair

there is no escape


	6. masterpiece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> created 01.02.20

they say that

the greatest masterpieces stem from pain

ash,

with his golden hair that was smoother than the world's most expensive silks

and his jade eyes which shone like diamonds

and his soft, pale, doll-like porcelain skin,

he was always considered beautiful

ash always thought that

he wasn't beautiful because

his insides were rotten

charred

decaying

full of maggots and worms crawling all over

his soul

a tangled mess

stained with blood and semen

white, sticky

red, fresh

black, pain

torn to shreds and permanently damaged

ash is beautiful

a work of art to be admired

inhuman

unreal

ash is a pretty ornament to be looked at and touched

he will never be human

he will never be free

the greatest masterpiece

is made

of

ash


	7. love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> created 01.06.20

love

is not

low whispers in his ear

sending adrenaline through his spine

love

is not

the horrible sound of

skin

slapping against

skin

love

is not

sly looks

roaming hands

dirty tongues

rough

dragging against his flesh

contaminating

him

with

saliva layering his ivory skin

love

is not

calling your son a whore

when he is just barely old enough

to tie his shoelaces by himself

love

is not

slaps across the cheek

bruises marring his innocence

love

is not

telling him to get over it

telling him that he deserves it

telling him that he likes it, doesn't he?

love

is not

paper-thin translucent

ripping through cloth

fingernails digging in

stealing

invading

destroying

licking

panting

moaning

thrustingthrustingthrusting

love

is not

blood

running through the streets

painting the walls

a mirthful

vibrant

red

staining their clothes

staining his hands

staining his skin

staining his mind

using the life from their eyes

to paint the world

love

is not

gunshots

semen

smearing

sticky

golden sparks of flame growing

out of control

licking his lips

inviting them to ruin him

in order to

save

the others...

love is

sacrificing yourself

risking everything for your friends

taking a bullet to save another

protecting them from harm's way

love is

not shooting your best friend in the chest

love is

not getting your brother killed

love is

bright pink

bubblegum blue

mint green

yellow sunflowers

swaying in the wind

love is

believing

no matter what

love is

capturing a moment of happiness

forever

through the lens of a camera

permanent and real proof

of the wings hope provides

love is

flying

love is

soft eyes

love is

watercolor dawn

love is

hope

love is

doing anything to protect them

love is

caramel skin

love is

a silent promise

love is

never hurting with rough hands

love is

healing with

featherlight touches

love is

eiji okumura

love

is not

ash


	8. an infinite loop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> started 01.10.20  
finished 01.11.20

static, fuzz

what's happening?

voices slide in through one ear

and slips out through the other

he can feel his brain melting inside his skull

turning into a pink and gray goop

oozing out of his ears

going through his daily routine

has never felt more bleak

a ghost version of himself

he floats through the rooms

the halls

the streets

flitting between reality and fantasy

heavy static

and

fuzz

barring his brain from the rest of his body

focus low

drowsiness high

afrer moving to japan

life should be easy but

everything is harder

not even eiji can make it better

the static is glued to his head

blocking his vision

he can feel himself sinking

deeper and

deeper

the abyss drags him back to new york city

fangs digging into his skin

the whisper of rotting flesh lingering in every room he steps into

he is a walking corpse

blood pulsing like molten lava

skin peeling like dead birds falling from the sky

the static screams an infinite cacophony of horror and sex inside his head and he can't escape; all he can do is try to tune it out but it keeps getting louder and louder, shrieking and screeching like nails on a chalkboard, filling the room and crushing everything until his eardrums explode and blood spews out of him and there is nothing left but a deafening silence flooding the room, ignoring his child-like cries of terror and his pleas for hope

static, fuzz

what's happening?


	9. the boy in the window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> started 06.08.20  
finished 06.23.20

There's a window  
where a boy always looks out.  
I see his face everyday whenever I walk past his home.  
I can never make out anything except his features  
because the house was always dark on the inside,  
even when it was nighttime.  
Light from the outside helped me look in.  
His skin is pale and his features are boyish,  
weighed down by age.

The first time I saw him,  
sorrow twisted his boyish features  
into something monstrous.  
Tears exploded from his eyes  
burning like flames  
searing the whites of his eyes and skin  
into reds.

And as his pain scorched him,  
he looked straight at me.  
Awkwardly, I averted my eyes—  
I didn't want to see his pain.

The second time I saw him,  
his eyes still held fire,  
but this time,  
the flames were eating away at him from the inside out.  
He didn't seem to care, though.  
Maybe he thought the glass would melt under his gaze,  
or that the inferno he wielded  
would push back the darkness  
that lurked behind him  
in his home.  
But all I saw was flesh  
melting  
and turning  
charred black  
in that window.

And as his pain stirred up a firestorm within him,  
he looked straight at me.  
Awkwardly, I averted my eyes—  
I didn't want to see his pain.

The third time I saw him,  
he was a dragon.  
His hand pounded at the glass  
like sharp black claws  
screeching against the clear, solid window.  
His eyes were shining like diamonds,  
the irises vibrant green like jades,  
taking in the outside world.  
His mouth was open wide and  
breathing fire.  
I could hear the shrill rawness of his voice  
clawing at the air.  
His screams scratched at me,  
ripping my skin open and drawing blood.

And as his pain stirred up a firestorm within him,  
he looked straight at me.  
Awkwardly, I averted my eyes—  
I didn't want to see his pain.

Today,  
I see him.  
His presence was shallow,  
hollow,  
empty.  
Where was the green in his eyes?  
The golden sunlight in his hair?  
Where was the little boy?  
All I could see  
was a shadow.  
Black,  
shapeless,  
flat.  
All I could see  
was the physical embodiment of  
hopelessness.  
He'd given up.  
He was  
an incomplete canvas  
a book with the pages ripped out  
a dead body rotting in the streets  
a noose waiting to be hung  
All I could see  
was the boy in the window  
mirroring the movements of my own.  
All I can see

is myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> liSTEN i kno w I suck at writing :)
> 
> i just use this fic to vent when i'm really upset


End file.
